Android's Best Friend
by Pop-X-Tart
Summary: Faithful. Loyal. True... It was all my programming began with. I was man's best friend. But man abandoned me when I was too… too alive. But this feeling is natural- no matter who leaves me. I am Frost, the only deviant canine to exist.


Dirt and mud stained under her paws with each trot of her legs down the alley-way. It was a mess of the slums in downtown Detroit. Homeless, rats scurrying around, and goodness know what else that was questionably mixed in the mud. White fur is damp throughout her frame, ears hanging back on her lean head.

Expertly she trots through it all, avoiding certain individuals more than others, rounding a few corners- and keeping her pace steady. In her jaws is a link of two sausages, the end torn off one side. The dog's teeth hold onto it firmly, but it never reaches beyond her tongue. Instead, her pace eventually slows down just behind a large dumpster. Briefly her ears perk up, monitoring the area.

The furthest humans were down the alley, drunkenly hollering and keeping warm near a trash fire.

Satisfied with their distance, she pushes herself closer to the dumpster and wedges between the wall of the building. There's just enough space for her to reach her head down, dropping the sausages. At once multiple fluffy kittens rush over, barely taking the time to chew as they scarf it down. In seconds it was gone and they scoured the area for any little bits with the tops of their pink noses.

The dog looks them over, satisfied they were warm and dry. The kittens would be big enough to fend for themselves soon, but she didn't really mind bringing them food now and then. A white and grey striped kitten that she was particularly fond of climbs up, bumping into her snout and rubbing adoringly. The white dog snorts out the fur from her nose, effectively startling them all back under the dumpster.

_The little ungrateful fur-balls would be safe._

As she eases out from the hiding place, a little jingle rings under her neck. A black collar hides under her long fur, and on it a dog tag. There's engraved writing on the metal, too little to see, but at the top is a visible, capitalized word.

FROST

The canine's muscle definition is clear as she stands in place, looking both ways down the alley. Whether it was wolf alone, or something alike of it, there was no telling. Gold eyes stared off down to her right when the loud, drunken humans whistled.

"_Hey puppy puppy puppy!" _He made a high pitched noise of smacking his chapped lips together. His short, slow steps closer were shuffled and clumsy. The man at his side seemed less intoxicated and more keen on watching with some smug smirk.

Frost lowered her head closer to the ground, staring up from under her lashes. Training her senses, she could detect his temperatures rising. And something was hidden behind his back.

His less drunk friend snickered. "Ain't no way you gonna get that pelt Adam."

"_Naaaaw_ hell with you. Just a dumb dog."

Frost didn't know what a pelt was, but she did know 'dumb' and 'dog' enough to know it where it was directed.

With a flash of raising her lip, she bore her teeth. White fur bristled up between her shoulders, steady low growls remaining constant.

The man instantly backed up, dropping the knife hidden behind him. It clattered loudly, further bringing Frost's growls to worsen.

They were too close to her kittens. Too close for reckless, drunken men.

Frost jumped off her front paws in place with a start, barking. As expected the man hollered and ran away, his friend in tow. The canine pointedly watched till they were gone. Afterwards she turned tail and pulled pieces of cardboard nearby closer to the dumpster. As much as she was able, she covered the sides of the dumpster so the kittens would be more concealed.

When it was covered as much as possible, a little pink nose peaked out from the corner. It sniffed and reached out a little paw curiously till Frost bent down, nosing it back inside. Startled by her puffs of air the kitten retreats. Frost lifts her head again, ears flickering as she looked around.

It was safe.

That in mind, she was able to trot off from the area, starting yet another long night. A night of bringing food and comfort to the kind humans, and ensuring the area she called home, the slums of Detroit, was safe for another night…

She did her best.

But sometimes it was never enough.

Loud, angry barking roused Frost up from her visit with a human. Margaret, an elderly woman who bunkered down between two small brick buildings, stopped petting the white canine- who currently enjoyed it so much her legs buckled and her eyes remained close in bliss.

Frost's ears perked to her left, head tilting to make sense of it. It was angry.

"Oh Frost, stay with me." Margaret begged. "Elliot's fighting dogs are so horribly mean- I hope they haven't gotten loose."

Just the thought of Elliot had Frost quickly backing away, her guard rising. Elliot was a large, muscular man fond of dog-napping any poor stray or pet, and putting them in his 'games'. Frost was all too familiar with that aspect... He tried getting her many times- and each she managed to get away.

She didn't waste any time starting after the barking. In seconds she skid to a halt once the barking was the loudest. Sure enough, one of Elliot's fighting 'champions' was halfway down the alley. It's short, bristled fur coated in scars and mauled off ears. The stocky, muscular pit-bull was trying with all it's might to get under the dumpster. Growling savagely, digging angrily, like a rabid beast.

The terrified screeches of her kittens had Frost bolting over, tackling the mongrel beast away. It must have been used to fighting to such a degree- it wasn't even bothered. The pit-bull's eyes blared wildly as it turned its neck up, grabbing a hold of Frost's scruff.

She doesn't have the chance to retaliate.

A metal chain drops around her neck and tightens.

Frost's yelps were steady and frantic as she thrashed, finding the constriction growing too strong. And the pit-bull was relentless in shaking it's head to tear her apart.

"Told you morons it was my lucky day!" A raspy, deep baritone boomed. Frost thrashed, catching glimpses of Elliot's blue-jeans. Catching sight of old, dried blood under his boots.

From his decades worth of experience in his 'profession'.

Elliot handed the chain over to one of his lackeys crowding around- some of them even having the audacity to pull her ears of kick her side. There was no more moving with how they angled her collar, choking, and that mongrel still latched onto her.

Then, a little shriek.

Elliot grabbed up a kitten in his hand, laughing. "You kidding me? The big bad _white shadow_ was protecting these pieces of sh*t?"

Frost's yelps became full blown screeching- with renewed strength to thrash and jerk. Elliot's eyes gleamed.

"Bruce!"

The pit-bull released at once and stood at attention.

"You hungry?"

Frost screamed as much as a dog could- like an animalistic woman shrieking in such a high pitch.

_**NO! **__God no__**!**_

It was too quick to process. Frost's head jerked straight up, eyes wide. Without warning she sailed straight up, her jaws spreading over the face of the man holding her chain. One quick bite and he dropped it, yelling. With the metal thunking to the ground, she tackled Bruce inches before he could get the kitten. Teeth sank around his neck, and with it being so thick, they only wrapped halfway around. But it was enough pressure to cause a startling _**crack**_.

Frost's head jerked over, hackles on end. As Bruce gagged on blood at her feet, she neared Elliot. He had since dropped the kitten, letting it scurry back under the dumpster.

Terror was in his eyes. "H-Hey…easy now-"

His hand slowly went underneath his jacket. Frost jumped the moment he whipped out his pistol.

Crimson splattered the walls.

And, along with it, sapphire thirium.


End file.
